


everybody wants to rule the world

by rachelisanerd



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Big Bang 2019, F/M, Multiple POV's, Season One Team - Freeform, Stranger Things AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-19 07:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22440949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachelisanerd/pseuds/rachelisanerd
Summary: It’s the summer of 1986 and the people of sleepy beach town Happy Harbor live idealistic lives. Nothing happens here, like, seriously, nothing happens here. And that’s perfectly fine for Wally West, whose weekly Dungeons and Dragons campaigns give him all the entertainment and excitement he needs. But when 10-year-old Garfield Logan, the little cousin of the homecoming queen, Megan Morse, goes missing one stormy night; Wally and his party take it upon themselves to go find Garfield and bring him home safe and sound. Too bad what they find in the woods is anything but comfy and cozy. And, in Happy Harbor, all roads lead back to the mysterious Project Cadmus.. . .A Stranger Things AU
Relationships: Artemis Crock & M'gann M'orzz, Artemis Crock/Wally West, Dick Grayson & Kaldur'ahm & Wally West, Kon-El | Conner Kent/M'gann M'orzz
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37
Collections: 2019 Young Justice Big Bang





	1. part i

**Author's Note:**

> hello! welcome to my big bang 2019 fic! before we get started, a quick thank you to my editor, murrmernator! without you, this would have been a literal mess.

**Saturday, June 28, 1986**

Wally thinks that, all things considered, Happy Harbor is a pretty great place to grow up.

Sure, he’s never really lived anywhere else (except for the couple of summers he spent with his aunt and uncle out west), but he still thinks that Happy Harbor has everywhere else beat. It has beaches and a boardwalk with the best fried food in the world. It’s got a new arcade that opened in the spring, and there’s a video store on Main Street now, too. He can bike to wherever he wants, and almost every inch of the town is in radio range from his bedroom. Really, what more could a kid ask for?

Plus, Happy Harbor has his friends. And Wally knows that he can't find them anywhere else.

So, yeah, Happy Harbor is a pretty great place to grow up. Case closed.

. . .

If the sun is out and shining on a given summer morning, Wally's mom wakes him up extra early, hands him a bag with a towel, his bathing suit, sunscreen—lots and lots of sunscreen—and a couple dollars for lunch and games on the boardwalk, then tells him not to come home until dark.

But this morning, Wally's already up and dressed by the time his mother comes knocking.

"Wally?" she calls through the door. "Time to get up, it's a beautiful day out—"

He yanks the door open, startling his mother. "Thanks, mom." He grabs the bag from her hands and kisses her quickly on the cheek as he scoots around her and down the stairs. He hops down them, two by two, nearly knocking down one of the thousands of family portraits they’ve taken over the years.

“No running in the house!” his mother cries. “ _Wally_!”

He slides into the kitchen, heading towards the counter where his mother left his breakfast waiting for him. He shoves one breakfast sandwich in his mouth and wraps another in a napkin before cramming it into his backpack. 

“Your room on fire?” his dad asks, casually, from the breakfast table. He doesn’t look up from his newspaper.

"Can't talk, Dad," he calls over his shoulder. "Today's the day!"

He’s out of the house and on his bike, pedaling madly towards the beach, before the screen door slams shut behind him.

As he bikes, he looks down at his watch. It’s barely eight in the morning and the sun is already beating down on him—he can feel his skin burning. He doesn’t care, though—how could he? It’s the first day of summer! His skin is supposed to burn, his clothes are supposed to be covered in sand, and he’s supposed to get a stomachache from all of the fried foods he’s going to eat on the boardwalk at the end of the night.

And it’s only going to get better from here. This summer is going to be _his_. He can feel it.

The last couple weeks of school had dragged on for what felt like an eternity. His finals were a total joke, so during the time he was supposed to be studying, Wally had carefully crafted the most awesome, most ultimate, most unbeatable summer plan ever. A plan that maximizes the daylight hours and even accounts for the occasional summer thunderstorm. It’s sheer genius, if he does say so himself.

He locks up his bike and sprints down the path to the beach. He’s got to get to their spot before the rest of the beach fills up. It’s 80 feet from the lifeguard stand and 45 feet from the water. It’s the perfect distance for easy access to the water and the snack stand, and has prime viewing of the beach volleyball court that should be filled with babes by noon.

But, of course, no matter how early he wakes up, how many short cuts he takes, or how fast he runs down the beach—and he didn’t even trip this time!—he’s still the last one to show up.

Dick Grayson has his tool belt out and is tinkering with his radio underneath a bright red umbrella, Roy Harper is slapping on sunscreen, and Kaldur Durham is standing with his hands on his hips, looking longingly at the water.

There’s the other reason why this summer is going to be the best. Finally, all of his friends are going to be back together again. This past year has been rougher than most. Dick was stuck in middle school. Kaldur picked up extra swim practices—he's hoping to get a scholarship to college. And Roy...well, Roy has always been a little moody and distant, even on his best days.

But this is the summer before Roy’s senior year. Who knows what life will be like once Roy turns 18 and finally makes it out of Happy Harbor? Wally has heard all about high school seniors dreaming big about leaving Happy Harbor and going off to places like New York or Metropolis or Gotham City, only to end up back here working dead-end jobs that they probably got through their parents “knowing a guy”. Wally doesn’t want that for Roy, and he knows for a fact that Roy doesn’t want that for himself either. But that doesn’t mean Wally won’t miss him. Knowing Roy, he’ll probably be out of town before the ink dries on his diploma. Meaning Wally’s got one summer to pack in as much fun and good memories as possible before he leaves.

This is why his plan is so important—nay, _necessary_ —to the success of their summer.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Roy calls.

“Morning, sleepyhead!” Dick waves his screwdriver.

Wally groans. “How am I always the last one here?”

Kaldur clasps Wally on the shoulder when he walks over. “You did not miss much, my friend.”

Clapping his hands together, Wally grins. “Let’s get this party started then.”

. . .

The morning is perfect. And that’s a fact.

They change into their swimsuits and before the beach fills up completely, Wally, Dick, and Kaldur build the biggest sandcastle they have ever attempted while Roy “supervises.” Wally knows he’s really just making excuses to stand around with his chest out and keep an eye open for girls. But it doesn’t matter. He, Kaldur, and Dick still manage to make an impressive two-story castle with a moat and three bridges and windows made from broken seashells. It’s too awesome. Dick takes a polaroid of Wally and Kaldur kneeling down next to it, grinning madly, while Roy tries not to look amused in the background.

Wally takes the photo and tucks it into the pocket of his backpack. _Souvenir_ , he thinks.

They move to the water as the sun rises and the heat picks up. Kaldur got a new boogie board this summer which means that Wally gets his old one. The water is freezing but they stay in, riding the waves, getting saltwater up their noses, until Wally’s fingers start to prune and turn a purple-ish blue.

After their swim, it’s about time for lunch and Wally is ready to eat his weight in chicken tenders and curly fries from the snack stand. Dick whips out a twenty-dollar bill and proclaims that lunch is on him today. They spent every last penny on burgers, chicken tenders, fries, and sodas—and, really, what more could Wally ask for? Besides, maybe, like, another twenty dollars to get a second helping.

They sit down with their trays at one of the plastic tables with chairs that scrape against the deck and dig in. Dick catches them up on all of the eighth-grade drama and how he is _so_ ready to get into high school, because middle school is _so_ cliquey. Roy looks ready to jump in the moment Dick takes a breath to burst his bubble.

Wally’s preparing for the incoming disaster when he sees her.

Megan Morse **.** Cheerleader. Prom Court. Honor Roll. Perfect in every way.

Wally’s dream girl.

She’s wearing a bright-pink swimsuit with white sunglasses and white strappy sandals that don’t look like they work well on the sand, but make her legs look a million miles long. Like Malibu Barbie—but, Happy Harbor Megan. Yeah, that has a nice ring to it.

Dick dangles a napkin in his face. “You’re drooling.”

“ _Dude!_ ”

“She is quite pretty,” Kaldur muses. Roy nods, taking a sip of his Coke.

“I saw her first,” Wally says quickly. “I have dibs!”

Dick cackles. “I think that only counts if she sees you back.”

He’s still cackling when Wally kicks his chair over.

. . .

Wally loses track of time after lunch. All he knows is that the beach is packed full of people. It's a little too early for tourists, which means that almost all of Happy Harbor is out, celebrating the first days of summer. There are families with screaming children, old men with leathery skin ogling women in their swimsuits, and groups of teenagers, moving like packs on the hunt.

And, as the sun sets, every single one of them moves to the boardwalk for food and games.

Wally and his friends are some of the last people on the beach. Kaldur bugged them for one last dip in the water before packing up their stuff and heading over to the arcade.

The arcade is at the end of the boardwalk, attached to the roller-skating rink. It’s all one big white building with bright red letters that spell out _Fun-o-rama_ on the front _._ To get down there, they have to walk past all the crowded tourist shops and the candy store and the ice cream stand and the pizzeria.

It also means having to walk past some football players trying—and mostly failing—to hit on the cheer squad, without giving the mouth-breathers a reason to beat the living daylights out of them. It’s not so much of a problem for Kaldur and Roy, but these guys could totally snap Wally and Dick in half like toothpicks. Wally happens to like his upper and lower halves attached. So, he follows protocol: head down, eyes forward, and do not, under any circumstances, make direct eye contact. It only angers them more.

But since he’s a glutton for punishment, he sneaks a look up out of the corner of his eye at the Bumblebees. That what the cheerleaders call themselves: The Bumblebees. Most of them seem to be fawning over their respective football player, giggling and twirling their hair on their finger. At the end of the row of tables is Megan Morse again. She’s changed out of her swimsuit into a flowy pink dress. She looks disinterested as Cameron Mahkent tries to flirt with her.

No one calls him Cameron, though, everyone just calls him “Junior.” His dad was some big-name football star in high school, but he got into some trouble a while back. A lot of trouble. Like, federal prison level trouble.

Wally guesses that Junior isn’t much better. He throws his weight around like he’s the King of Happy Harbor, but he’s nothing more than a bully. A total creep, too.

Wally looks away from where Junior is leaning over Megan. “Do you think we’ll ever get girlfriends?” he asks.

“There’s more to life than going on dates and getting a girlfriend,” Kaldur says firmly, like it’s something he tells himself in front of the mirror every morning.

Wally ignores him. “I think I want to ask Megan Morse to the fireworks show. The one on the fourth.”

Dick breaks out in cackles and Kaldur elbows him to stifle his laughter.

“She is so out of your league,” Roy says. “Don’t waste your time.”

“Besides,” Dick adds, “rumor is that the Morse’s don’t let their daughters date. In other words, you can look, but you can’t touch.”

Wally watches as Junior puts his arm around Megan. She looks uncomfortable but doesn’t push him away. Instead, she’s listening intently to whatever Karen Beecher is telling her.

“Hm.” Wally folds his arms across his chest, “Seems like Junior didn’t get the memo.”

“Junior is also an asshole,” Dick says.

“It might be wise to take this conversation elsewhere.” Kaldur tilts his head towards Junior and his friends, whose attention is shifting away from the pretty girls and towards them. Not a good sign.

“Come on, lover boy,” Dick says, patting Wally on the shoulder. “They just installed a new two-player game. Race you!”

Dick takes off with Wally close behind him, “Hey, wait! Make room for Player 2!"

. . .

The entire boardwalk has closed up by the time they run out of game tokens.

“So, Mom said it’s supposed to rain all day tomorrow,” Wally says when they reach their bikes. “I’m thinking that if you guys come over early enough tomorrow, we can really get into the new campaign I’ve been working on. My chemistry final gave me so many ideas for these new monsters created from—”

“Can’t,” Roy says, unlocking his bike from the rack.

“What do you mean, can’t? It’s—,” Wally looks around, to make sure no one can overhear them. “Dungeons and Dragons! You can’t miss it!”

“Watch me.” Roy mounts his bike. “I got a job. Starts tomorrow. And it’s time for me to start taking myself more seriously.”

“You got a job?” Wally and Dick exclaim at once.

Wally is pretty sure his jaw is hanging down by his feet, but Kaldur maintains his composure. “Why did you not tell us this before?” Kaldur asks.

“Didn’t want to ruin the day,” Roy shrugs. “We all have to grow up some time. Today’s the day for me. You guys will get there.” He pauses. “Eventually.”

With that, he rides off towards town and, for maybe the first time ever, Wally is at a loss for words.

Wally glances at Kaldur. He’s always been the closest to Roy, but he looks just as caught off guard as Wally feels.

“Kaldur—,” Wally starts.

Kaldur pulls his bike off the rack. “We’d best get home before our parents start to worry. I’ll see you both tomorrow?” He starts to ride off. “At nine?” He’s gone, too, without waiting for their reply.

Dick just shrugs and follows after Kaldur. And Wally is left wondering if his plans for the best, most awesome summer ever just crumbled before his very eyes.

. . .

Thunder cracks in the distance when Wally rides up into his driveway. Across the street, the garage door is still open with the light on. He sees little Garfield Logan working on his bike, his dog sleeping next to him, both oblivious to the thunder roaring around them.

“Hey, Gar,” Wally calls. “Finally fixed your bike?”

“Yeah, you were right about the chain,” Garfield answers. “How was the beach?”

Wally shrugs. “Could have been better.”

Garfield nods and turns his attention back to his bike. Wally suddenly feels guilty for even mentioning it to him in the first place when he ran into him on the last day of school. Wally had told Garfield all about his summer plans but didn’t even bother to invite him. His mother would smack him upside the head if she knew. She raised him better than that.

Wally has always had a bit of a soft spot for Garfield. He’s a sweet kid that can’t seem to catch a break. It’s just him and his mom, but she works a lot of weird hours as the town’s only veterinarian so it’s just him and their dog a lot of nights. Other nights he has dinner at Megan Morse’s. They’re cousins, or something. Wally’s not really sure. But there’s also something wrong with him. Not like he’s weird, or anything, but he has to get blood transfusions once or twice a month. Wally only knows this because on the days that Garfield’s mom or Megan and her family can’t look after him after his treatments, Wally’s mom will go over and bring him dinner and check up on him.

“Now, don’t you go telling all of your friends about this, Wallace,” his mother told him when he followed her over one night about a year ago. Garfield had just started up his treatments again, after they’d stopped for a while. Apparently, whatever it was came back. “This boy goes through enough without other kids making up stories about him.”

He remembers seeing Garfield laid up in his bed, his dog curled around his feet and his stuffed monkey tucked underneath his arm. His skin was clammy and had a greenish tinge to it with dark circles under his eyes. He was asleep, but his breathing was shallow, like it took too much energy to take normal breaths. Wally had never seen someone so sick before.

They’ve never talked about it—him and Garfield. Wally’s not even sure if Garfield knows that Wally was there that one time. All he knows is that he’s not going to be the one to bring it up. 

“Hey, Gar?” Wally calls again.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to come play Dungeons and Dragons tomorrow? Dick and Kaldur are coming over. We can teach you—how to play. If you don’t know how.”

Garfield’s face lights up. “I’d love to! What time?”

“9 a.m.? We’ve got a lot to get you caught up on. Might even take all day.”

“Really?” Garfield isn’t even trying to hide his excitement. He’s up on his feet, bouncing up and down.

“Really.” Wally pulls up his garage door. “Better close up shop before the storm hits. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

“See you, Wally!” Garfield waves. “Can’t wait!”

Wally pulls down the garage door and parks his bike next to his dad’s unused work bench. He stops in the laundry room before heading upstairs to change out of his sandy clothes and into his pajamas. His dad is passed out in his armchair and his mom is reading in her chair while the late-night news plays softly in the background.

“Did you have a good day?”

Wally smiles for his mom. “Yeah. I’m gonna go to bed now. ‘Night, mom.”

“Good night.”

Later, when he’s in bed underneath the covers, Wally tries not to think about what Roy said. Logically, Wally understands that Roy is two years older, and therefore, will have different priorities. Emotionally, Wally worries that, one day, he’ll feel that way too. That it will be time to put away all the things that make him happy and subject himself to a life of work, work, and more work. He just wants a little adventure before all that.

He rolls to his side and watches the rain pound against his window.

And if the only adventure he can get before that comes from a Dungeon and Dragons campaign? Then so be it. He can live with that.

. . .

On the nights his mother isn’t home, Garfield likes to pretend like his house is a secret base. If he doesn’t lock it up properly, then the enemy spies will come in and steal him in his sleep! His mom has always told him that there are no spies in Happy Harbor, especially not evil ones, but he can’t take any chances.

Locking up the house at night is probably his least favorite chore, he decides. Along with brushing his teeth and cleaning up the farm he builds for his animal figurines out of Lincoln Logs.

As he flips the lock for the back door, Garfield cups his hand over his mouth and mimics a static radio. “Copy, Agent Monkey, this is Team Leader. Base is secure, I repeat, base is secure. Over and out.” 

Agent Monkey barks back at him, and shakes out his shaggy, brown fur.

When his mom came home one evening with a puppy and not an actual monkey like he’d requested, Garfield wasn’t really sure how to feel. But Monkey has proven himself to be a worthy companion, so he guesses he can let it slide. Plus, his mom let him name their new puppy Monkey, and what’s cooler than a dog named Monkey? Well, besides a monkey named Monkey, of course.

Monkey follows him up the stairs to his room. He didn’t pick up his farm like he was supposed to, but he figures that if he wakes up early enough tomorrow, maybe he can start playing again before his mom comes in to say goodbye and she’ll never even notice. Then, he’ll go to Wally’s across the street and play that game with him and all of his friends. They’re high schoolers, too! And they want to play with him!

Seriously, it’s _so cool._

Garfield turns on his night light and crawls into bed. Monkey hops up and curls around his feet.

“Night, Monkey,” he murmurs, as his eyes drift shut.

That night, he dreams that there’s a voice calling his name over and over again. The voice is sweet, sweet like the candied apples he and his mom get when they go to the boardwalk, and all he can think about is how he has to follow the voice. It’s like someone has turned off all the lights and finding her is the only way to turn them back on. He has to follow the voice. He has to.

He dreams that he gets out of bed and pads down the stairs to the back door. Everything is blurry, but he has to follow the voice. He opens the door and steps out into his backyard. He has to follow the voice; he has to find her. He dreams of the cool grass beneath his feet and Monkey’s distant barking, and the voice is still calling to him.

He dreams that he finds it and allows the voice to surround him completely.


	2. part ii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello welcome back this is the quickest i have ever updated anything in my life don't get used to it friends. anyways, on with the show!

**Sunday, June 29, 1986**

On Sundays, it’s Megan’s turn to cook breakfast for everyone. Her parents always make them go to nine o’clock mass and they always sit in the first pew; the last thing they need is one of the twelve Morse kids’ stomachs to growl over the Priest’s sermon. They would never live it down.

So Megan wakes up extra early, like before-school early, to make pancakes and bacon and toast and eggs and cut up slices of fruit so that everyone in her family will have something to eat. She’d hoped that her parents would have shifted the responsibility to one of her sisters (she has seven of them) now that it was summer, but they haven’t. Yet. Maybe her parents just like her cooking. She’s okay with it, really, but it would be nice to be able to sleep in the extra hour.

She’s in the middle of stirring the second batch of pancake batter when the phone rings. She runs across the room to where the phone is mounted to answer it before it wakes anyone up.

“This is the Morse Residence, Megan speaking,” she says, just like her parents taught her.

“Megan? It’s Aunt Marie.”

“Oh, good morning, Aunt Marie! I’m just getting breakfast started. Would you and Garfield like to come over and join us before we go to church? I can make extras!”

“Uh, thanks, maybe next time,” That’s what she always says. “I was wondering if you could go pick Garfield up and spend the day with him. I’m sorry to trouble you, but I got called to a farm about an hour out of Happy Harbor late last night, and we’ve been trying to help this cow give birth, but—well, I’ll spare you the details, but it could be a while. I don’t want Garfield to spend the whole day alone.”

“Oh, yes, of course. I can go pick him up before we leave. I just got my license.”

“Great, thank you, Megan.” She can hear someone in the background calling for her aunt. “I’ve got to go, say hello to your parents for me.”

The line goes dead before Megan can say goodbye. She hangs up the phone and goes back to making breakfast.

It’s not long before the rest of her family comes rushing down the stairs to the smell of pancakes. What happens next is always the same. Her brothers take more than their fair share of bacon, and at least one of her sisters has something to say about calorie counts. Her father mostly ignores them all while he drinks his coffee and reads his paper, while her mother is always scolding someone for something while feeding the baby.

By the time everyone is settled at the table and eating, all that’s left is a couple pieces of toast for Megan. It’s almost 8:20, soon they’ll all be racing upstairs to get ready for church, fighting for whatever little amount of time in the bathroom they can manage. If there is a perk to waking up early to cook, it’s that she gets to spend as much time in the bathroom as she wants, so she’s already dressed in a magenta, knee-length skirt and matching sweater set.

“Um, Mom? Dad? Would it be okay if I drove separately and picked up Garfield?” she asks, fiddling with the edge of her apron. “Aunt Marie called and said she had an emergency she was dealing with and wouldn’t be home for a while.”

“No wonder she can’t find a husband,” her father says as he flips through the morning paper. “Who wants to marry a woman with such a demanding job?”

Her mother glares at her father but says nothing. “That’s fine,” she tells Megan. “Make sure he wears something nice to church. Who knows when Marie took him last—the boy needs exposure.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Megan says.

“Don’t forget you have to do the dishes when you get back as well.”

“Yes, of course.”

Her mother looks her over. “Well, get going now. Or you’ll be late.”

Megan nods, trying to contain her giddiness as she excuses herself from the table, and grabs her yellow raincoat and the car keys on her way out the door.

This is her favorite part about being sixteen— _driving_. She’s never had so much freedom in her life! She can listen to pop music stations—so long as she remembers to turn the dial back to the talk radio before she gets home—and she doesn’t have to bother anyone for rides to cheerleading practice or when she wants to go to the mall with her friends. She might even be able to get away with driving herself to a date!

If she could ever get one, that is.

Happy Harbor is a pretty small town; everyone knows everyone. Meaning that it’s hard to look at a guy she’s known since elementary school as Prince Charming when she remembers he used to pick his nose.

She sighs. If a Bumblebee wants a boyfriend, then she gets one. That’s how it’s always worked. But somehow, Megan is the odd one out. Again.

Megan pulls up into the driveway of her aunt’s home. It’s smaller than hers, but she likes how the house has brick and white panels. It looks how a house should look – warm and inviting and well-loved.

She flips up her hood and rushes from the car to the front porch, slipping only for a second on the wet, stone walkway. She unlocks the door and it swings open. The living room is dark; the first floor is silent.

“Gar? It’s Megan!” she calls, “You’re gonna come spend the day at my house!”

She listens, but doesn’t hear Garfield, or Monkey. “Garfield?” she calls again, louder this time. _Maybe he’s still sleeping_ , she thinks, and walks up the stairs to his room. It’s at the end of the hallway, and the door is open all the way.

“Garfield,” she says in the sing-song voice she uses when she wakes up her younger siblings, “Time to wake up.”

Toys are scattered across the floor. The bed is empty, sheets kicked back.

Something feels wrong, in the pit of her stomach—but her mother always says that she worries too much about things not worth worrying about, so she pushes it down. Maybe he’s just in the bathroom and hasn’t heard her?

She walks across the room, trying to ignore the knot in her stomach, and knocks on the bathroom door before opening it. The light is off. It’s empty too.

The feeling in her stomach gets worse as she moves through the house. Megan checks her Aunt Marie’s room, her bathroom, and the upstairs office. Nothing. She rushes back downstairs, checks the kitchen, the dining room, the living room, even the laundry room and the garage. All empty. There’s no one here. No Garfield. No Monkey. No one.

She feels a breeze, and notices that the door to the back yard is open. “Hello, Megan,” she says, smacking her forehead lightly, starting to feel relieved. Of course—Garfield must have taken Monkey outside.

The rain is coming down harder now, and a mist has settled over the slope of the yard, making it hard to see. She steps outside and cups her hands around her mouth. “Garfield!” she yells. “Gar! It’s Megan! Come out of the rain!”

But it’s Monkey, not Garfield, that comes bounding from around the corner where she knows his doghouse is. He’s soaking wet, like he’s been outside for a while.

For once, Megan ignores her mother’s voice in her head telling her what to do and lets the panic fully set in. The empty bed, the open door, Monkey looking like someone just abandoned him… Her skin itches and she can’t breathe and—and— 

“ _Garfield!”_

**. . .**

It’s still raining when Wally wakes up. Slowly, he makes his way downstairs, where his mom has some Eggo’s, bacon, and a tall glass of orange juice waiting for him.

“Can’t go to the beach today,” his father says as he flips through the Sunday paper. “What are you going to do instead?”

“The guys are coming over, we’re gonna hang out downstairs,” he says, and bits of Eggo fall out of his mouth.

“Wally West, chew with your mouth closed,” his mother scolds, hands on her hips. “And you know better than to invite your friends over without asking me first.”

He smiles sheepishly. “Sorry?”

She makes a disapproving noise. “They can’t stay for dinner.”

In Mom-speak, he knows he’s off the hook. For now, at least.

Wally heads downstairs as soon as he finishes his second helping of breakfast. He starts setting up the folding table and chairs in the middle of the small family room they have in the basement next to the laundry room and the garage. Wally keeps all of his best stuff down here, like his chemistry sets and his robotics parts and all of the D&D figurines that he’s spent years collecting. He would have some of his favorite posters up too, like his _Back to the Future_ one or the one from the first _Star Wars_ , but his mom said no—something about not being able to hide them if they have guests over.

Which makes no sense to Wally, because the only people that come to the basement when they visit are Dick, Kaldur, and Roy, and they know his posters are _awesome_.

It’s not long before Dick arrives. And by “arrives”, Wally means that he sneaks into Wally’s house through the garage and then jumps out of the laundry to scare the shit out of him. It’s one of those moments when Wally has to remind himself that murder is against the law.

Kaldur arrives promptly at nine, like he’s supposed to. Knocks on the front door, like he’s supposed to. And walks down the stairs, saying hello to Wally and Dick, like he’s supposed to.

Wally is pretty sure Kaldur is his only normal friend.

They sit around the folding table Wally has set up with his D&D board and figurines. He’s even added in a couple of his other actions figures for extra effect. Kaldur fiddles with the ranger figurine that Roy usually uses. Wally had put it out, just in case.

Dick rubs his hands together. “Let’s get this campaign rolling! Robin the Rogue has some character upgrade ideas!”

“We can’t yet. You know Garfield?”

“The boy that lives across the street?” Kaldur asks.

“Yeah, I invited him over,” Wally shrugs. “Kid spends most of his time alone and—”

“—And you thought we needed a fourth member,” Dick concludes.

“ _Dude_!”

“What? Someone had to say it.”

Wally rolls his eyes, annoyed that Dick would even mention it. “Your bedside manner _seriously_ needs some work.”

“Maybe we should table this discussion for another time,” Kaldur interjects, but his suggestion falls on deaf ears.

“It’s not like we didn’t know that Roy was older,” Dicks says, like it’s some sort of an excuse. He leans back in his chair and folds his arms behind his head. “There was always going to be a day when he moved on.”

Kaldur cuts in, sidestepping Dick’s comments. “Why don’t we just get started? It will be easier to help Garfield if we know what we’re getting into.”

. . .

Wally figures it must be about noon when his mother calls the three of them upstairs because he is _starving_.

Garfield never showed, and Wally can’t help feeling a little concerned. Maybe the kid’s not feeling well. Or maybe, he reasons, his mom came home and he got distracted.

He doesn’t think too much more about it, but figures he can convince Dick and Kaldur to go check in on him after lunch if the rain stops.

When they get upstairs, instead of the beautiful spread of drool-worthy sandwiches he’d expected, Wally finds Bruce Wayne, standing next to his mother in the kitchen. Well, _towering_ over her might be a better way to describe it. He’s fully dressed in his sheriff’s uniform, and while Wally’s never officially seen him in Chief Wayne Mode, it freaks him out a little that it’s not that much different than Normal Bruce Mode. 

“Bruce?” Dick pushes in front of him to stand before his adoptive father. “What’s going on? Is something wrong? Is it Alfred? Is he okay?”

“No, dear,” Wally’s mom places her hand on Dick’s shoulder. “Bruce isn’t here for you.”

“I’m here because I got a frantic call from Marie Logan two towns over,” Bruce says, his deep voice somehow even more serious than usual. “She says that her niece went to go check on Garfield this morning and found he wasn’t home, with no indication of where he might have gone. You wouldn’t have an idea of where he could be, would you?”

“No,” Wally says, feeling everyone’s eyes turn to him. “But—I mean—I just saw him last night.”

“When?”

“It was pretty late—after dark but before the rain,” Wally says, racking his brain for details. “He was outside with his dog and they were working on this bike. Some bullies had trashed it at school—”

“He was bullied?” Bruce interrupts.

“I mean,” Wally looks to Kaldur and Dick, “who isn’t?”

Bruce raises an eyebrow at Dick, who looks away. 

“Did he say anything?” Bruce asks. “Maybe about the kids who bullied him?”

Wally shakes his head, “I invited him over to hang out this morning and he never showed, but I figured he just wasn’t, um, feeling well.”

Bruce nods. Wally feels a flush creep up his neck. Bruce has an uncanny way of making someone feel like they did something wrong when they really didn’t.

“Are you guys going to look for him?” Dick interjects. “I can help!”

“No. You three are going to stay put,” Bruce turns to Wally’s mom and Wally sees the way his face shifts, how the charm turns on instantaneously. “If that’s quite alright with Mrs. West, of course.”

“Oh, you can just call me Mary, Chief Wayne.” Wally is pretty sure his mom is blushing. “I was just about to make the boys something to eat anyways.”

Bruce smiles. “Of course, I’ll get out of your hair.” He tips his sheriffs’ hat. “Mary. Boys.”

Dick follows Bruce out of the kitchen. Wally can’t hear what Bruce says to him, but the look on Dick’s face when he walks back in the room is the same one he wore last Christmas when he rolled a critical fail on their last chance to take out the final monster at the end of their campaign. Disappointed, deflated, and a little embarrassed.

“Why don’t you three head downstairs,” his mom says as she starts pulling sandwich fixings out of the fridge. “I’ll call you up when lunch is ready.”

The second they get downstairs, Dick throws himself down on the couch. He rolls over onto his back and sighs, “I can’t believe Bruce treated me—us—like—like kids!”

“In the eyes of the law, we are,” Kaldur reminds him.

Dick throws his hands up, “He wouldn’t even let me help!”

“What kind of help could you be anyways?” Wally asks. “You’re not the police chief last time I checked.”

“No, but I’ve been reading Bruce’s files! If anyone can find Garfield before Bruce, it’s me. I know all his secrets,” Dick pauses. “Well, I know _most_ of his secrets.”

Wally walks over to the couch and pushed Dick’s feet off it so he can sit on the armrest, “When were you going to mention that Bruce has been letting you read his files?”

Dick just grins.

Wally knows this look too, “You broke into his office, didn’t you?”

“If he didn’t want me to get in there, he wouldn’t have a lock that is just so pickable,” Dick shrugs, “Besides, my lock picking skills may be indispensable for my new mission.”

“Wait, wait, wait- you’re going? Even though Bruce said no?” Wally stands back up and starts pacing. “I mean- if you’re going, then- then I’m going too.”

Dick jumps up and claps him on his shoulder, “That’s the spirit.”

They both grin and turn to Kaldur.

“Just like that, we’re—” Kaldur shakes his head, “What? Amateur Private Detectives? Do you really think we can find him? It’s not like we’re the—I don’t know— the Ghostbusters.”

“Great movie,” Wally says automatically.

“Yeah, like the Ghostbusters! But better! Like Indiana Jones, or Han Solo! Or—really just anything with Harrison Ford,” Dick says.

"It'll be like a real-life Dungeons and Dragons campaign!"

Dick deepens his voice like he does when they're all in character, "We didn't come for a playdate."

Wally rubs the back of his neck, "Well, technically…"

" _Dude!_ "

. . .

Wally’s mom orders them pizza for dinner so that she can go over to Ms. Marie’s house and sit with her in case Garfield comes home. Wally’s father heads out not long after his mother. He doesn’t tell Wally where he’s going or what he’s going to do. Wally wonders if he’s out looking for Garfield, too, but he tries not to dwell on it. They have their own mission to focus on.

Around nine, his mom calls and says she doesn’t know what time she’ll be back from Ms. Marie’s and to lock up the house before he forgets. He says he will and tells his mother he loves her. For a moment, he thinks of Ms. Marie and what she might be thinking right now. Part of him wants to say something, but nothing seems like enough.

But actions speak louder than words, or whatever. His teacher said that Abraham Lincoln said that once. His parents say it a lot too.

He, Dick, and Kaldur sync their watches. If they leave now, they have just under three hours before its curfew. Just under three hours to find little Garfield Logan before the grown-ups do. Totally doable, he thinks. Or, maybe more accurately, he hopes.

The rain picks up as they bike towards the edge of town. Garfield has once told Wally that there’s an abandoned school bus right along where the old junkyard and the woods meet. Bruce would probably be looking at all of the places kids go in town: the boardwalk, the arcade, the video store. If they were going to find Garfield, they’d have to go where no one would think of.

Mud kicks up at them as they bike across the field towards the rusting bus. They drop their bikes when they reach it. Wally runs inside the bus while Kaldur and Dick look around.

“Garfield?” Wally calls as he looks under each seat on the bus, “Gar? It’s Wally. Everyone’s been worried sick!”

He reaches the back of the bus and nothing. A weight sinks in his chest. One he’s never really felt before.

“The inside is a bust,” he yells to Kaldur and Dick over the pouring rain, when he exits. "You guys find anything?"

"No," Dick replies, "Even if there were any clues, the rain probably washed everything away."

It's official, Wally's decided, Dick has been watching too many of those old crime dramas from the 1960s.

"Now what?" he asks. That weight in his chest is sinking further down into his stomach.

"Maybe we should head back," Kaldur says, "Bruce will know what-"

Wally watches as something catches Kaldurs attention over his shoulder, in the woods. Before he can ask what, Kaldur pushes past him and takes off running into the woods.

“Wait!” Wally follows him, with Dick not far behind, “Kaldur!”

Wally's sneakers keep getting caught in the mud as he runs. Kaldur’s red shirt jumps in and out of his sight through the trees. Finally, Kaldur comes to a stop in a clearing. Wally has no idea how far they’ve gone into the woods. His lungs are burning, his feet are soaked, and all he can think about is how terrible of an idea this whole thing was.

“What?” Wally asks, in between heaving breaths.

“I—,” he shakes his head, “I thought I saw someone.”

Dick is panting when he catches up with them, “Gar?”

“No. It was too large. It—it wasn’t something that belonged in the woods.”

Wally’s eyes go wide, “Like a monster?”

“Or a guide,” Dick points to the fence they’ve stopped in front of. “I bet on the other side of this is that Cadmus Lab Bruce has been talking about.”

"Cadmus Lab?" Wally repeats.

Something snaps in the distance. Wally turns just in time to see something flash past the trees just a couple yards away. He’s not sure what he saw—it was skinny and quick, really quick, and there was something sticking out from its head. But Kaldur was right, whatever it was didn’t belong in the woods of Happy Harbor.

Dick and Kaldur look to him; he is the fastest of the three of him.

“Kid, go,” Kaldur orders.

Wally races towards the noise. The rational part of him tells him to stay away. Why is he—a scrawny fifteen-year-old with absolutely no idea how to defend himself—running _towards_ the weird noise and the scary thing in the woods?

But then there’s another part of him—a louder one. One that’s telling him to go faster despite the burning in his legs and chest. One that’s telling him every step is a step closer to finding Garfield safe and sound. So, when it comes down to it, he doesn’t really have a choice.

Wally skids to a stop, “ _Whoa_.”

He can hear Dick and Kaldur coming up behind him, but they don't say anything.

Standing in front of him, looking like he just walked out of _Tron_ is a boy (man- something in between?) wearing a bright white jumpsuit. His dark hair is slicked down across his forehead. His face is void of emotion, and his eyes are trained on Wally.

Wally thinks of what he told himself early. _One step closer_ , he reminds himself.

So, he does just that. He takes the step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part iii should be up by this weekend, if not, hold me accountable @rachelisanerd on tumblr!


	3. part iii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol one week became three months. classic rachel.

**Monday, June 30** **th** **, 1986**

The worst of them call him the Weapon. The rest call him the Superboy. He likes neither. 

There is a routine to his day. He wakes. He learns. He eats. He trains. He eats again. He sleeps. They stick things on him, in him, after everything that he does. They call them tests. They say that the tests track how well he is doing. They say he is doing very well. 

He hates the tests. 

Every day, the door opens and five men in blue clothing come into the room followed by a man in a white coat. Every day, he does what the man in the white coat says. The man in the white coat is the worst of them. 

One day the door opens, and no one comes inside. He stays standing, shoulders squared and eyes forward as he is supposed to, but no one comes. He slowly moves to the open door. The lights in the hallway are flickering fast. The only noise is the sound of an alarm going off, wailing throughout the corridor. He is unsure of what to do. 

Then he hears the command. 

_Run._

And he does. He runs down the hallway, busting through the doors at the end of it. 

_Go right_ , the voice commands again. 

He does. 

_Take the stairs._

He does. He follows every command the voice gives him.

Maybe it’s another test. The voice speaks to him the same way that they do when they make him do his tests. Do this thing or else. He has never had a choice. 

But some part of him _knows_. He knows what is happening is not a test. It is not the man in the white coat. It is his choice. 

When he reaches a door that leads to the outside, he hesitates. He has never been outside his room before, let alone outside this building. He has never seen the stars or the moon or even the sun. Only pictures that flashed through his mind as he learned their names. 

_Go,_ the voice commands. _Go, and never turn back._

He does. 

The outside is wet and warm, and he can feel the way the ground shifts underneath his feet. The gates are wide open, and he runs through them into the woods. Tree branches hit him as he moves through the forest. They do not bother him. He keeps running. He keeps running until he cannot go further. 

He reaches a clearing. The ground is covered with a blanket of wet leaves and on the other side, right in front of him are three boys. One tall, one less tall, and one short. Their mouths are ajar and they are staring. The boys do not stare at him the way they have stared at him. He knows it is different. 

The middle one steps towards him. 

_No more running_ , he lets himself think. He lets himself feel. 

. . .

Wally awakes to bright light streaming through the small windows of his basement. He turns on his side and sees Kaldur still sound asleep next to him. Dick is curled up into as tiny a ball as possible on the couch, snoring slightly. 

For a moment, everything is normal. 

Then he remembers.

_I am the Superboy. A genetically engineered clone created to represent the next phase in human evolution,_ their soaked Tron-wannabe had told them, d _esigned to defend and protect humanity so long that it does not stray from the light._

And Wally let the guy sleep in his basement. What the hell was he thinking? 

It’s a standard open and shut case on this one: he wasn't. Wally's never been the best at stopping to think about what he's doing before he does it. He runs headfirst into almost any situation which usually ends with him running straight into a brick wall.

There was something about, uh-- the Superboy? Super Boy? He's going to need a nickname, there’s no way Wally is calling him that forever-- that made Wally kinda feel bad for him. When they found him in the woods, yeah, the guy looked like he could do some serious damage, but he also looked kinda scared. Maybe lost is a better word for it. Either way, it ended with Wally letting the guy sleep in his basement. 

He let him sleep in the basement. 

_Shit._

Wally snaps up and turns to his right, where Superboy’s sleeping bag was. But the clone—or whatever he is—isn’t there. 

“Guys, wake up!” Wally shoves at Kaldur, then throws his pillow at Dick, who swiftly knocks it away with too much skill and precision for someone whose eyes are still closed. “Superboy is gone!”

They both shoot up.

“Check all the hiding spots,” Kaldur says. 

Over the years, Wally’s house had become _the house_. The one they always went to dinner at, had sleepovers at, played way too many hours of Dungeons and Dragons at. Everyone always said that it was because his house was the most central to all the other houses and that his mom made the best dinner, hands down. While, like, of course, his mom does, Wally thinks there might be more to it. Dick lives in a large mansion on the edge of town, Kaldur’s parents go away on business a lot, and Roy, well, that was always too complicated of a situation to even bring up the idea of having dinner at his house, let alone anything else. 

So, his house became _their_ house – very convenient when six-foot-tall Superboys go missing. 

Dick dashes into the laundry room and Kaldur goes to look in the garage and outside. Wally can’t believe that he’s managed to lose not one, but two people in the past two days. Maybe being a real-life hero just isn’t for him. 

He goes to the closest to grab an old pair of sneakers since his are probably still soaked from the night before. Wally opens the door, “Shit!” He flails and falls back on his ass. 

There, in his closet, stands Superboy. His posture is almost too perfect, and his eyes slowly blink open. “Why are you on the floor?” he asks. He’s wearing a pair of his dad’s old pajamas because there is no way that he could put on something of Wally’s without his muscles bursting the clothes at their seams, and Wally doesn’t really need that image ingrained in his head forever. 

“Why are you in my closet?” Wally shoots back. 

Kaldur and Dick come rushing back in. Probably because of the strangled noise Wally made as he fell. Dick has to cover his mouth with his hand to keep his snickering at bay. 

“Everything alright?” Kaldur asks. “Did you sleep in the closet last night?” Dick’s snickering gets louder and Kaldur elbows him. 

“It was more comfortable,” Superboy says. 

Wally feels like there’s some weird clone-shit reasoning as to why this is but he hasn’t had breakfast yet so he doesn’t bother asking.

The door at the top of the basement stairs creeks open. “Wally?” his mother calls. 

“What?” he yells back.

“I’m going back over to the Logan’s to bring a casserole. You’re on your own for breakfast—there’s Eggos in the freezer.” 

“Okay!” 

“Don’t spend all day inside playing with your toys!”

“ _Mom!_ ” he whines.

“Love you!” and with that, the door closes behind her. Her heels clack across the tile of the kitchen floor until she’s out the door. 

Wally grumbles. His Dungeons and Dragons figurines are _so not_ toys. They’re collectibles, and there’s totally a difference. 

“What is an Eggo?” Superboy asks. 

Dick clasps a hand on his shoulder, “Boy, do we have a lot to teach to teach you, my friend.”

. . . 

After they eat more than their fair share of waffles, the first thing on Dick’s list is to get Superboy some real clothes. Which is fine by Wally because his dad’s clothes are about five sizes too big for Superboy and are making him stand out way more than a secret clone should. So, they put him in a pair of sunglasses and an old baseball hat and head down to Main Street. 

At the store, Dick immediately starts pulling things off the rack for Superboy to try on while Kaldur tries to ask him what his size is. 

“I doubt that white jumpsuit of his came from a department store,” Wally quips. 

Kaldur nods. “Where did you get your suit from?”

“They gave it to me,” Superboy says. 

Wally is just about to ask him who exactly _they_ are when the bell at the entrance chimes. His attention snaps to the front of the store and he watches as Megan Morse walks up to the salesclerk. 

“I’ll be right back,” he says to the guys, but Kaldur and Dick are too wrapped up in a heated debate over a bright checkered shirt to notice. 

“Hey, Megan!” Wally calls as she turns away from the counter, waving his hand. He catches up to her right before she heads out the door.

She looks up at him. “Oh, hello.” At first, she still looks perfectly-polished, with carefully styled hair and make-up and a matching floral shirt and shorts. But up close, her eyes are bloodshot like she’s been crying, and there’s a greenish tinge to her skin that makes her look like she’s going to be sick any second.

Wally sees the posters in her hand, “I—uh, wanted to tell you how sorry I am about Garfield. He’ll be home soon, I promise.”

“Thanks, um—"

“Wally. Wally West.”

“You live across the street, right?” Wally nods and she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. She looks over his shoulder. “Who is that? The one in the black?”

Wally follows her gaze; she’s watching the guys and Superboy. “Oh, uh, that’s my…cousin?”

“Your cousin?” she repeats.

“Yeah, he’s visiting from—uh—Kansas?”

Megan eyes him for a moment, like she doesn’t quite believe him, but says nothing. She only says: “He should get the black t-shirt. I like that best.” She holds up the flyers in her hands. “Well, I gotta go give these out, so… here, take one.” She hands him a flyer. She smiles at him one last time before turning and leaving the store. 

Wally watches her for a second before turning back to walk over to his friends with a smug look on his face. That conversation confirmed it all. Megan Morse totally digs him. Once they find Garfield, he’s totally asking her to the fireworks show.

. . . 

Megan stops at the edge of the store’s windows and turns to take one last look at those awkward, lanky boys in the back. They all seem to be laughing at something Wally’s cousin said. Her eyes linger on the mysterious stranger: the tousled black hair, the piercing blue eyes, the broad shoulders. He looks like he came straight out of one of the romance novellas she keeps underneath her bed. And if this was one of her novellas, he would look up and her and their eyes would lock, forever sealing their destiny to be together. 

But this isn’t one of her romance novels. 

She sighs as a fresh breeze hits her. It’s not even noon and the sun is already unbearable, so the ocean breeze is a welcome change as she makes her way down Main Street. She still has about five blocks of stores to hit before she needs to go to the grocery store to restock Aunt Marie’s fridge. The last thing Megan wants is for her aunt to worry about having something to eat on top of everything else. 

She’s about to head into Bilbo’s when the wind picks up and knocks some of her flyers out of her hand and down the street. She rushes to collect the flying papers, stumbling over her own feet to catch them, but it’s no use. The wind has scattered most of them down the street. 

Megan bends down to grab a couple that got caught on the sidewalk when a skateboard comes to a stop in front of her. Its owner bends down as well, picking up the last of the flyers and handing them over to her. 

“Thank you,” she says, looking up. When she sees who’s in front of her, she blurts out: “You’re the new girl.”

The girl stands. She pushes her bright red sunglasses up on her head, the loose hair that’s escaping her high ponytail falling around the frames. “And you’re the girl with the missing cousin,” she says. When Megan doesn’t answer her right away, she adds, “I thought we were just stating the obvious?”

“Um, yes, sorry,” Megan says, feeling her face get warm. “I’m Megan Morse. It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

She extends her hand, and the girl tentatively shakes it. “Artemis.”

Megan smiles. “It’s nice to put a name to the face.”

She’s seen Artemis around a handful of times before. There’s not a lot of new people moving to Happy Harbor, so they kind of stick out – not that she would tell Artemis that. But, judging by the way the new girl is already looking at her like she has two heads, maybe Artemis already knew that. 

“How are you liking Happy Harbor?” Megan asks. 

Artemis snorts. “It’s definitely not Gotham,” she says, her eyes flicking to the flyers Megan is clutching, “but I’m starting to think it's not that different after all. Runaway kids are pretty standard where I’m from.”

“He didn’t run away!” Megan says, and there’s a bite to her voice that she doesn’t recognize. “He didn’t,” she repeats softly. 

Artemis plucks one of the flyers from her hand. “Well, if you’re sure. I mean, who would ever want to leave Happy Harbor?” she adds, her voice heavy with sarcasm. She nods at Megan before tossing down her skateboard.

As Artemis pushes off down the street, Megan calls after her. “Wait!”

. . . 

They end up deciding on the shirt Megan liked and a pair of jeans and boots that actually fit Superboy. Wally makes him keep the hat on, though. For stealth reasons, of course. They have to keep a low profile until Wally can figure out a way to explain to his parents that there’s a clone named Superboy sleeping in their basement closet. 

Wally demands they get ice cream before they do anything else, so they walk back to Wally’s with a couple of soft-serve cones in hand. And, as if Wally needed any further confirmation that Superboy is definitely not normal, the guy bites directly into his ice cream like it’s an apple. Who does that? Clones that call themselves Superboy, apparently. 

When they reach his house, there’s a Sheriff’s car parked outside of Garfield’s house. 

“Back to reality,” Dick murmurs.

“Speaking of which, I should head home. I can imagine that my mother has heard of Garfield’s disappearance. She will want to see me,” Kaldur says. 

“Alfred, too,” Dick agrees. “Plus, I still kinda smell like a wet dog from the rain last night. I need a shower. Stat.” 

"What about the big guy?" Wally asks. Superboy is standing a couple of feet away, staring at the sheriff's deputy's car. 

Kaldur points out, "We cannot exactly bring him to the police and say we found a clone in the woods while looking for Garfield Logan when you specifically told us to not go looking for Garfield Logan."

Dick clasps Wally on the shoulder, "Just stay with him until we get back after dinner. We can try for Round 2 tonight after dark."

Wally nods and brings Superboy back into his basement after Dick and Kaldur ride off on their bikes. He’s not too sure what to do with him, the guy usually just stands there. Wally's not too sure if he even gets bored. Do clones get bored? That's a new research question...

With nothing better to do, Wally sets out to pick up the remaining mess from their sleepover as Superboy watches from where he stands two feet in from the door. At least this way, Wally can pull out the TV and maybe put on a VHS. He can feel Superboy watch his movements. It starts to get to him, with the weight of his eyes on him, how much Superboy knows about them, but how little they know about Superboy.

Wally lasts about two minutes before he caves and just asks, “Why were you in the woods last night?”

“Why were you?”

Wally huffs, “You can’t just answer my question with another question.”

Superboy arches an eyebrow, “Why not?”

“Fine,” Wally plops down on the couch, clutching his pillow, and sinks into the cushions, “That cop car that was parked across the street? They’re looking for a kid named Garfield Logan. He went missing the night before we found you. Dick, Kaldur, and I thought that maybe we could find him before the police could and, I don’t know…” Wally pushes his hand through his hair, “It was stupid.” 

“You found me.”

Wally looks up, “Yeah I guess you’re right- does this mean that you’re going to tell me what the hell you were doing out there. And what the hell that suit was for?”

“I already told you, I am the Super Boy. A genetically engineered clone--” 

Wally covers his face with his hands before dragging them down his cheeks, “You told me this already. Do you have any other answers memorized?”

“This is what Cadmus taught me.” 

Wally shoots up, “Did you say Cadmus Labs?” Superboy nods. “Did they--,” Wally swallows, “Did they do tests on you? Do make you like,” He waves his hands in Superboy's general direction, "That?"

Angry flashes across Superboy’s face, “They created me. Gave me strength and speed. They taught me and trained me.” 

“Wait, hold on,” Wally holds up his hands, “Are you- like- a _superhero_?”

“Superhero?”

“Well your name _is_ Superboy,” Wally says, “That’s like,” he waves his arms around, “That’s a superhero name if I ever did hear one.”

“What is a superhero?” Superboy asks, “What do they do?”

“They help people- here, wait right there.” Wally dashes over to his bookshelf and starts pulling his comics down. He brings them back over to Superboy and starts flipping through the colorful pages, “They have nicknames and secret identities and wear costumes. They do it all so they can help people.”

“Help people,” Superboy repeats. 

“Man, you gotta stop repeating everything I say...” Wally mutters. “Okay, did they teach you to read too?” 

Superboy looks less than thrilled with the questions but nods.

“Great,” Wally throws a stack of his comics at Superboy, “You do some research and I’m gonna call the guys. I think I just thought of a way for us to get Garfield back.” 

He radios Dick and Kaldur and tells them there's been a change of plans and to meet him back at the abandoned school bus. For a moment, he thinks of radioing over to Roy, too. It was less than 48 hours ago that Roy was right there beside them no matter what. It had felt like a lifetime had passed since then. So much had happened since that Wally didn’t even have a chance to miss his friend. 

Wally shakes his head. First, he finds Garfield. Everything else can wait. 

. . . 

Artemis hasn’t fully made up her mind yet, but she’s pretty sure that Happy Harbor might be one of the worst places ever.

When her mom told her that they were moving out of Gotham into this house that has apparently been in her family for generations, she thought her mother was absolutely crazy. Like, yeah, Gotham is dangerous and filled with drugs and really, really, _really_ dirty, but Gotham was _home._ Gotham is home.

She’d barely finished her freshman year before her mom was packing up their meager belongings into two suitcases for a bus ride up to Happy Harbor, Rhode Island.

The town itself is nice. Artemis has never seen a beach as clean as Happy Harbor’s nor been able to swim in water that wasn't chlorinated without the fear of getting, like, radiation poisoning before. So, yeah, that’s nice... but, she’s only been in town a couple of weeks and she can already hear the whispers about her.

When kids whisper, they talk about how they heard she got expelled from her last school. That her mom was so embarrassed that they had to move 200 miles away. They say that her family is in the witness protection program because they have connections to Gotham crime lords. They say a lot of things that aren’t true. 

What the adults say is worse because they might be.

_That’s Crusher Crock’s kid_ , they say. _Heard the oldest is already turning out just like Dad. Wonder if she will too?_

She knows what they’re thinking. The way to pull their children a little closer, or how the store clerks watch her every move as she browses their shelves; just the looks on their faces is telling enough. They don't think she was good enough for their town, that she doesn’t belong here.

At least that is something they could agree on. She doesn’t belong here. Artemis Crock belongs back in Gotham and she has no plans on sticking around any longer than she has to.

So, when she saw Miss Homecoming Queen this afternoon, Artemis expected her to be no better than the rest of them. Artemis expected a snide remark about her hair or her skateboard or some other superficial thing trait that girls pick on each other for. 

What she was not expecting was a girl on the verge of tears asking for her help. 

Artemis doesn’t know why she agreed to go along with this. Maybe she wants to prove to the town that she is more than what they say she is. Maybe she wants to prove it to herself. Either way, she’s just going to blame it on her stupid moral compass and the simple fact she's not sure the Megan Morse could handle it all on her own.

So, that’s how Artemis ended up on an old road at the edge of down, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her baggy sweatshirt, leg bouncing with anticipation as she waits for Megan Morse to show up so they can search the woods for her little cousin. 

Artemis checks her watch again, Miss Homecoming Queen is already fifteen minutes late. 

“Great,” she grumbles, “Just my luck.” 

When she looks up, Artemis spots a bright pink blur heading in her direction. Megan is peddling her bike as fast as she can towards Artemis, screeching to a halt right in front of her. 

“You’re late.” 

Megan is huffing slightly, “Sorry. I was with my aunt.”

“It’s fine,” Artemis rolls a pebble underneath her foot, “Let’s just get going. It’ll be dark soon.” 

Together, they take off down the road. Megan starts telling Artemis all about how her cousin really likes animals. How he will search all over Happy Harbor to find one he has never encountered before. 

“He’ll probably become a veterinarian one day. Like my aunt,” Megan says, “He cares so much and he’s so smart and--” 

“Why did you even ask for my help?” Artemis cuts her off. “You could have just gone by yourself. Or with, like, anyone else?” 

“We girls have to stick together, right?” Megan answers a little too easily. “It’s nice to have someone in your corner. Like a sister! You know?” 

Artemis kicks a loose pebble down the road, “I- uh, no, I wouldn’t.”

“Oh, are you an only child?” Megan asks. Artemis chews her lip and nods. “That must be nice, I’m one of twelve.”

“Every family has its own challenges.” 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Silence takes over them and they just walk. Artemis isn’t too sure where they’re going, or why they’re going where they’re going. The only thing she knows for certain is that she has a bad feeling they aren’t going to like what they find when they get there. 

She’s seen this kind of stuff before. Kid goes missing, kid doesn’t come back. Plain and simple. 

It sucks, Artemis knows that firsthand. It sucks so much that sometimes you get mad at the person that went missing. You get mad at them for leaving you. Mad at them for not coming back. Mad at them for abandoning you, forgetting about you. You get mad at them for even existing in the first place. Artemis just hopes that Megan never has to feel that way. 

Their silence is deafened by a large, echoing boom coming from the woods. It sounds like something out of a movie. Wide-eyed, Artemis and Megan look to each other. 

“What was that?” Megan asks.

“Last time I checked, large booms in the forest aren’t a good thing.”

Megan fiddles with the sleeve of her jacket, “Should we go? What if it’s…”

Artemis looks off into the woods, then back to Megan, “Don’t make me regret this.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> does this make sense? idk? will i update soon again? idk. animal crossing owns my soul. does only posting half of what this part was originally supposed to be mess up my one part per story day style? ABSOLUTELY.  
> stay home and stay healthy, everyone. follow me on tumblr @rachelisanerd


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